Juli: Part One
by VladdieChica
Summary: Eli and Julia's relationship, from the first encounter to the last heartbreaking fight-and beyond. Part one in a new series  Eli/Julia Juli
1. Chapter 1

**A/N hello! This chapter is just a…prologue, I guess. It's what happens right in the middle of my story. The first half will be how Eli and Julia got together and their relationship. The second half will be about the aftermath of her death. Maybe-just **_**maybe**_**, I'll do a third part where Eli meets Clare and how he finally gets closure. I can't wait to see how they do it on the show, because Eli and Clare will never be together unless he can get over Julia and understand it wasn't his fault and he deserves to be happy.**

**I won't use correct grammar **_**at times**_** because parts of it are thoughts which, as we all know, are rarely grammatically correct.**

**The ship name is Juli, pronounced 'Ju' as in 'Julia' and 'li' as in 'Eli'. if her name is Julie or Juliet, at least we can all agree it starts with 'Ju'. Fair enough? This is the ship name i'm using, it isn't law. But i said it first =P**

**I really don't know if the girl's name was Julie, Julia, or Juliet, but I'm leaning towards Julia. So, I'm sorry if that's not right. I don't think I'll change it I'm wrong though, because my laptop is evil and foils my every effort to re-edit my fanfics.**

**Eli will probably seem out of character. But remember; this was before Julia's death made him become more introverted and less…**_**expressive**_** (in my opinion, again), and he's **_**really infuriated**_** with her. You'll see why. It doesn't seem like much right now, but I'll get more into it in later chapters. Also, he was a mean, jealous drunk (but this changes afterwards). I'll explain later. For now, I'll just say he was at a party and drank enough to be more than buzzed but less than where-the-hell-am-I, whoops-I-passed-out-naptime drunk. **

**On with the story. This is short because it's a prologue of sorts.**

**Oh, wait.**

**Disclaimer That Won't Save Me In Court So Why Do I Even Try: I own... Mumford's and Sons's new album. But I'm giving it to my mum. I don't own Degrassi. Man, I need to make a better disclaimer. If you have one you're willing to share, could you tell me in a review? Along, of course, with an actual review, if you don't mind.**

**Warnings: Drunk-Angry-Teenager Language. Believe it or not, the language on here is toned down from what it was originally. If this is too mild a rating, tell me and I'll change it. Grudgingly.**

**Moving on. Here is the first chapter on Juli: Part 1**

"Why are you acting like this! He's my _friend_!" Julia shrieked in frustration.

"Oh_, please_! Friend with _benefits_ is more like it! You were practically _fucking_ on Sophie's couch last night!" Eli was pissed, big time. He didn't know why, but it felt so _good_ to scream at her.

"It was a party, we were drunk, and we made a mistake! We kissed, that's IT! I'm really sorry, but you're overreacting!"

"Overreacting?" he chuckled darkly, no doubt the only laughter this night would ever hear. "My girlfriend made out with another guy and I'm OVER REACTING?" Eli roared. This wasn't like him. This wasn't who he was. But he was enjoying it too much to stop. "What the _FUCK_! That means _nothing_ to you? You _whore!_"

There was a pause as Julia calmed her obvious anger.

"Don't call me that." The redheaded girl was quieter now, but her voice wavered in her fury.

"Why not? Because it hurts your _feelings_?" Eli mocked. '_ShutupshutupSHUTUP!' _some small, rational part of his brain was shrieking. But he paid it no attention. He was basking in the sick thrill he got from taunting her.

"Eli, you're not acting like yourself." Julie was trying to calm him now; be that little 'oh baby I love you let's just sit down for a minute' girl she was when she _knew_ she was losing. Well that wasn't gonna work for her this time. Not tonight, bitch.

"Not acting like myself? How would _YOU_ know?" He wasn't stopping now. He was in control and they both knew it. Now he could just play with her; scream and shout and make her feel like shit until she had tears running down her cheeks.

"YOU DON'T FUCKING _KNOW_ ME! YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME! I LOVED YOU! THEN YOU GO OFF WITH SOME GUY LIKE I DON'T EVEN _MATTER_? LIKE WE DIDN'T _HAVE_ SOMETHING? HOW COULD YOU?" Yes, she was crying now. It wasn't like in the movies, where a tear would roll slowly down a smooth porcelain cheek. No, this was red-puffy-eyes, wet-nose, sticky-faced crying. She looked pathetic; nothing at all like the Julia he knew.

But he wasn't the _Eli_ he knew tonight either, he realized. Eli looked at her, weak and hurt, because of _him_. He-he didn't mean all of those things, not really. And now, he didn't feel strong or in control. But he desperately didn't want to let go of that feeling.

"Get out. I don't ever want to see your face again." But somewhere inside, he wanted to get down on his knees and beg and plead and tell her he was _so fucking sorry _and he forgave her because it wasn't a big deal and he would never yell at her again and _don't go I love you_.

Despite this, he stood his ground, strong and cold.

"Fine." She didn't whisper or yell, like he expected. She said one, level word and walked out, closing the door behind her softly- gently, even- as this wasn't just closing a door. It was a sign of acceptance and finality.

Four hours later, Eli Goldsworthy got a phone call.

**There it is. Next chapter: introducing you to Eli shortly before he meets Julia for the first time.**

**Please review. I don't get many (barely any, really) on my other fics, and it would mean a lot to me.**

**Flames are tolerated because I'm desperate for feedback, though I'm not proud of it.**

**Now I shall waste hours on Facebook. Oh, the addictive properties of social networking sites…**

**If this **_**doesn't**_** get such horrible feedback, or lack of any, I will be looking for a beta soon, but not just yet**.


	2. Eggos and Redheads In That Order

**A/N I got lovely reviews! Because I feel like killing time before I have to actually start typing this up,I'll reply to a few of the reviews here. Feel free to skip over it (and my rambling) **

**Krazeycik- as first reviewer, you get a virtu-cookie. Thanks; deep was what I was going for, since it's such an emotional fight.**

**Degrassi-fan () - I can't believe I'm the first to write for the pairing. You would think as soon as that episode aired, obsessive Eli-junkies would be jumping for their computers. Or paper, if you're Amish.**

**ZzZMidNightZzZ-No reviews are stupid. They are all brilliant strokes of illuminating genius in a black sky of depressing non-reviewership.**

**NOTES THAT ARE ACTUALLY IMPORTANT: This chapter is in Eli's POV. You can get your motorcycle license at 15 where I live, though I'm not sure about Canada. But, for the sake of the story, let's say that applies in Vancouver. I don't know what high schools there are called either. Around here, they're just named after rich dead guys. So, I made one up. It's a catholic school. I don't know what religion Eli is on the show, and it doesn't matter to me, but here, he's catholic. 'K? I'm not gonna bring religion into the story, so don't freak.**

**Disclaimer: don't own/sue. **

**Moving on. **

Beep. Beep. Beep. B-

That's the sound of a massive traffic jam; a result of a car/motorcycle accident. A teenage boy, Tyler Evans, was riding at a little under the speed limit, still nervous about his new motorcycle license being revoked by either the DMV or worse, his mom, FBI anti-terrorist agent. Then, a soccer mom running late on dropping off her 3 kids came roaring into the intersection, crashing into Evans. The occupants of the car were unharmed, aside from a few minor abrasions. Tyler, however, busted his ribcage, tibia, kneecap, and femur from landing on his right side and slamming his chest into the front of his bike. He also suffered a punctured spleen and frightening blood loss. At the hospital, his parents, Erica and Joe were asked to donate their blood to the young motorcyclist. Erica's blood type was compatible, but her husband's was not. In fact, her husband's blood type made it impossible for Tyler to be his son. Joe concluded that Erica had been unfaithful to him. Though Erica denied this, the two divorced shortly afterwards due to irreconcilable differences. Erica was given full custody of their 15-year-old son.

-eep. Beep. Beep.

It's also the sound of my alarm clock.

At 6:23, I finally hauled my ass out of bed. Well, first I chucked my clock at the wall. _Then _I hauled my ass out of bed, but really, that's not important.

I couldn't very well walk into St. Samuel's Secondary School in a t-shirt and boxers, so I stumbled over to the various pieces of my uniform lying on the floor. I stripped off my nightshirt, and hopped around my room until the dress pants were more or less on. The top could wait until I brushed my teeth and took care of all those bodily needs. Once that was done and I was clothed, I grabbed my Spanish homework off the floor, Algebra 2 book off my desk, and English notebook from somewhere behind my bed. I was still getting used to the freshman workload, and my study habits were a bit…skitzo.

I had only been in ninth grade for a couple months, and I was already learning catholic schools weren't all that great. The homework was insane, the food was crappy, the punishment severe, and the sexy uniformed schoolgirls weren't even in the same wing! At least the same goes for the nuns. The brothers were cool, except for Brother Leonard. He taught science, and was really old-fashioned. He thought of it as "respect for old values". Ol' Leo wouldn't yell at us for nothing, but you couldn't reason with him and he was really strict. Brother Jack taught history. He was… soft-spoken. Normally I wouldn't describe someone as that, hell, I really didn't understand what it was until I met him. He was a bit younger than the other brothers; probably late thirties. But quiet wasn't my style, which was why my favorite teacher was Joey. We were supposed to address all the brothers by their full first names (along with "Brother", of course), but Joey told us the only his brother Tom could call him Brother, and only "mi mama" could call him Joseph. So he was Joey to us, unless- God forbid- Father Edward was around. Joey was probably the youngest teacher around- I'd guess late twenties. He was loud mouthed, funny, and could have made a good mafia man if he wasn't, y'know, a priest.

I walked into the tiny kitchen- kitchen_ette_ really- and stuck an Eggo in the toaster. While I waited for my waffle, I checked over my school stuff. I still had to do the questions for math, my worst subject.

I do okay in school, I guess. Report cards aren't for another month, but judging by the marks I get on homework and the occasional test, I have a B average in most of my classes. B average. How redundant. But it describes me pretty well. I'm average; nothing special. A lot of people would be unhappy about that, but I'm cool with it. I'm bright, but not straight A's. People like me, but I'm not in some popular elitist group. I'm…good-looking, but not some guy who gets all the hot bleach blonds or the wannabe-edgy brunettes.

Ah, which brings to me to my redhead fetish.

It all started with Twilight. Now don't get me wrong here, I'm not some closeted sparkly vampire fanboy. My friend Alicia had the soundtrack and would blast it whenever her mom would give us a ride anywhere. My parents are always working. My mom's a phlebotomist (bloodwork doctor) and my dad's a mechanic. Odd pair, eh? Anyway there was a song on the album called "I Caught Myself". Alicia told me it was by this band called Paramore. I looked them up, and what was I to find except a band of four dudes and the redheaded frontwoman of my dreams. Hayley Williams. She was spunky, not afraid to be loud, beautiful, and had this voice-it was pretty and all, but that wasn't what I loved about it. I was enamored-obsessed even- with the way it _made_ you listen. You could be in a room with a thousand other people, but if she started singing, everyone would drop everything, no matter how important, and hang on to her every word. Not just _hear_ her, but _listen_ to what she were saying and _think_ about it. I wished I could be like that. I don't mind being normal, but I hate that if you aren't somehow _special_, no one will pay any attention to you. I'm not an attention-whore, but it would be great if, just once, when I have something I really want to say, people would listen. My parents, my friends, even the teachers: I wish they would notice me.

I gradually came to associate positive things to red hair. Now, the first thing I notice about people is their hair. '_Are they important?_' '_Are they cool?_' '_Do I like them?_' But I had yet to meet someone who had hair as red as Hayley Williams'. She dyed it, but still.

My waffle popped out of the toaster. I grabbed it, dropped it, berated myself for grabbing a steaming hot waffle out of the toaster, and picked it back up. What? Five second rule! Shoving it in my mouth, I shouldered on my bag and headed out the door.

Just another day at school…

**A/N: anyone know where that little story in beginning is from? **

**Next: Eli and Julia meet. I typed this up in a couple days, but I won't normally do it this fast. After all, school is starting soon.**


	3. Unidentified Grossness on the Sidewalk

**A/N so…thanks for the reviews; they make me smile. I've had a lot of favorites and alerts too =) No offense to people with diabetes, it just seemed like something Eli would think/say. And sorry to people with maroon minivans. My mom used to have one. I kinda miss it =*( **

**Special little shout-out to **Shatteredsand**. The fic 'Strike Me Down' satisfies my angsty Elitz needs so I can write happy, romantic funny stuff like this. If 'Strike Me own' wasn't around, I would probably have already dropped this story and wrote one about Fitz and Eli going at in the alley behind school. So, yeah, go read it if you don't mind slightly twisted slashy goodness.**

**(update from a few days later) I made an Elitz forum! Yay! And I'm now part of the staff on Shatteredsand's Elitz community. Both the community and the forum are open to all things Eli and Fitz, not just romance. The forum is open to Juli (and all Eli/_non_-oc pairings…)! Double Yay!**

**How's that for shameless advertising?**

**Disclaimer: don't own Degrassi or Neosporin**

**Blah. **

**Moving on.**

I was a running a bit late for the bus. I had somehow been able to fall on my face in the 2 blocks from my apartment building to my bus stop. My face got scraped up on some unidentifiable object on the sidewalk. Actually, I knew what it was, but I really don't want to think about it too much. I mean, seriously, who leaves THAT out in public? Anyway, since it was so…ew, I had to run back home and clean up my face. My cheek was scraped up and there was bound to be a massive bruise tomorrow. Hmm. Maybe I'd tell everyone I got in a fight. You know, that whole "and you should see the other guy" thing. My school had a bit of a reputation for fighting. Hey, when you're holed up in a 100% testosterone school (remember, the ladies are on the other side), there has to be an outlet. I might finally get some respect and the older guys would lay off. Though, I think I would be more effective if I got in a fight with someone at school, then they could see my mad fighting skillz.

Oh, shut up.

Once I finished washing up my face (and laying on the Neosporin because, seriously, that thing was just…unsanitary) I had to run back to the bus stop, only to find a splash of ugly-as-hell yellow receding around a corner several blocks away. Dammit **(Adam!). **Dad was at the shop and Mom was probably drawing blood off some fat kid with diabetes. I couldn't just go back home, I had been through too much trying to get to school to give up now. Hell, my face got cut up by a…I can't say it. The event has been burned out of memory forever. Wait, not really. I think I just threw up a little bit in my mouth. Nasty.

I resolved to walk what _had_ been a fifteen minute bus ride. I guesstimated it would be around 40 minutes. Hey, when you lived in the middle of the city, morning traffic made driving not too much faster than walking. A few minutes in, what _was_ a dismally overcast sky darkened. _Shiiiiiiit_. Ok, it hadn't started raining yet; there was time to do something. I looked around. There was nothing to duck into. I mean, there was, but I was walking in a shadier part of town and didn't want to walk into an "Asian massage shop".

It reminded me of back when we lived in San Francisco back in the States. I grew up in the northeast; y'know, Chicago, Philly, and once in New York when I was really little. It was just me and Mom back then, before my parents got back together. She was in med school then. Everyone had thought her an aimless floozy who had a kid when she was seventeen. Imagine their surprise when she decided to be a doctor; the name of which half my drop-out family couldn't pronounce. No one believed she would go through with it, so they refused to help her pay for school. Her brother wanted to, but he didn't have anything to give. My dad wanted to help out too, but, even though they were on good terms, she wanted to hold on to her pride So, she worked three jobs. I was left on my own a lot of the time. I was 9 when we moved there, but I still got free rein. Within the first week of moving into our crappy shithole of an apartment, Mom had warned me multiple times to stay out of the street. If you need to go somewhere, walk fast with your head down, get what you need, and all but run back to the slightly less shady building we called home. We lived in a part of town nicknamed The Loin. It was swarming with hookers, junkies, drug-dealers, and had some impressive gang activity for such a "peace-loving, liberal city". During the four years I lived in various parts of The Loin (we were evicted from a lot of buildings those years), I learned what and who not to trust. The same general rules applied here. Even though my mom was a doctor now, she wasn't a brain surgeon or anything, so pay was good, but not fantastic. She did better than my dad at least. I could go to private school, but it was tight. We lived in a nice apartment, but not nice enough to live in the good areas. Now, our building was in a neighborhood right on the border of the territory of a street-racing gang. But you didn't hear it from me. As long as you weren't out and about past midnight, you were safe.

But randomly walking into suspicious-looking shops was a big no-no, even if you're threatened with a massive downpour, was a big no-no. I knew it was about to come down hard, so I did the only thing a boy in a catholic school uniform _could_ do in this situation. I improvised a prayer.

"Please Holy Mother Mary! Stop the rain of…lies and sins from…pouring down upon this young innocent soul!"

Okay, dude shouting made up prayers in the middle of the sidewalk= crazy junkie. I knew even the crackheads would be wary of me. So why would anyone-_anyone in their right mind_-pull up in their family-sized mini-van, roll down the window, and _smile_?

"Hey, you go to Saint Samuel's, right?" Hmm… middle-aged man, had that typical _dad _look to him…I decided he was harmless.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" which was probably one of the stupidest things I could have said. You're wearing you freakin _uniform_, dumbass.

He gestured to the uniform and said, "My daughter goes there. She overslept a bit, and I was taking her to school on my way to work."

Definitely harmless. There was a long silence broken only by the sound of the mini-van's (which was like, freakin _maroon_) engine idling.

I guessed he figured out I wasn't gonna say anything, so he carried on our mostly one-sided conversation.

"It's about to rain pretty hard here, kid"

Well, this was an odd place for weather-themed small-talk. I nodded at his obvious statement; a few raindrops already falling on my clothes.

"Do you need a ride to school?"

Oh. So that was what he was getting at. Well, risk getting kidnapped by a pedo, or get to school nearly an hour late soaked too my skin and shivering.

"Um, sure. Thanks." I walked to the back door of the van and, after he unlocked it, climbed inside. Once my stuff was all settled, I looked up to once again thank my savior.

And my heart stopped beating.

There, sitting in the passenger seat like some slumped over, half-asleep goddess, was the girl with the brightest, reddest hair I'd ever been so fucking _blessed_ to see. It was like Hayley Williams went back in time and hopped in a bruise-colored minivan in Canada. And, ohmyfucking_god,_ she was wearing a Catholic. Schoolgirl. Uniform.

My prayer has been answered.

**Next chapter: Eli's ride to school with the goddess of naughty uniforms. Oh, and an assembly, I think. **

**I've gotten a lot of alerts and favorites, but not as many reviews…how the hell does that happen?**

**RE-FUCKING-VIEW.**

**I was hoping to get 6 before the next chapter. Yeah, I accept anonymous reviews. And flames, 'cuz I'm embarrassingly desperate.**

**Now I'm off to beta stuff I should've done yesterday while I was finishing this. Ah, the things I do for you people.**


	4. Paralyzation and Julia

**A/N I'm trying to write a lot of chapters before school starts, and then ration them out. Maybe one every week? Depends on how many I write now. This one's kinda short, sorry. I wrote it in about an hour, maybe less. But I still think it's good. Review?**

**Replying to a few reviews here-**

**Elifan12-thanks! It's my job to be entertaining. It's weird, if I read twisted angsty h/c fics, I can write funny stuff…it that sick?**

**Naiya vi Britainia- it just kinda popped into my head halfway through the chapter. I had a structured plan on how they would meet, but as soon as I got this idea, it all went to hell. GO IMPROV! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi. I just fucking **_**don't.**_

**Moving on.**

I couldn't move. I'm freaking serious. I was paralyzed. In those sappy supermarket romance novels my mom reads, there's always a part where the dude meets the chick. Then he freezes and his mind goes blank. Well, it wasn't like that at all. My body was frozen all right, but my mind was anything but blank. It was screaming and shouting and running in circles and telling me to _stop__**staring**__atherlikesome fucking__**moron**__you fucking__**moron**__movemovemoveGOD!_

I guess she felt my eyes on her, because she turned around and looked at me. She raised her eyebrows (which were just as red as her hair, I noted)

"Hello?" which was basically "Dude, stop staring, I caught you."

OK Eli, this is the part of the book where you snap out of it and say something charming and witty. But, once again, the books were wrong. I moved my lips a little, and looked down at my lap.

"Hi."

_Hi? _What-huh-did- _HI?_ Of all the things I could have said, I picked _that_? Well, at least my voice dropped a good two octaves, transforming me from "barely-pubescent-boy" to "drives-a-Harley-_man_". That's gotta be worth something, right?

Apparently so. When I finally got the courage to look up at her, she was smiling. She had a nice smile; it was a shy, lopsided grin. It was…coy, almost. I smiled back, keeping my lips shut out of habit from when I had braces years ago.

So we were just smiling at eachother. It would look kind of creepy for anyone looking at us. Two people in a car grinning and staring at eachother without a word. I knew she would look away if I didn't say something. I blurted out the first thing that came to my mind, a question that had beating the inside of my skull since I first saw her.

"Are you a natural redhead?"

Nice going, Eli. That's like asking a fifty year old woman if they dye their hair. She'd be offended, that was for sure.

But she wasn't. She looked a bit surprised, sure, but her eyes sparked with interest.

"Yup, all natural. I want to dye it brown, though." She told me, as if she thought red hair was a _bad_ thing.

"_What?_ Why would you want to do that?" I think I sounded a bit… emotional then, because she looked at me weird.

"Because it looks fake. Even you thought it was. I don't want people thinking I'm someone who dyes my hair crazy colors for attention." Alright, the gloves were off. I didn't care that I was supposed to be flirting with her; I had to save that hair. It was my mission in life.

"Who _cares_ what other people think? Don't you like it? You're so lucky to have that hair! It's bright and beautiful and anyone who judges you is just jealous!"

She looked surprised that I didn't just drop the issue. Then, she asked "You think my hair's beautiful?"

The mood changed, you could feel it in the pine-fresh air of the van. Her dad, thank god, was oblivious to all this, absorbed in maneuvering the big-ass mini-van around a tight corner.

I was suddenly hyper-aware of everything. The rain now beating down on the windows, the carpet interior underneath my fingers, the smell of my deodorant, and -oh god- I could _smell_ her _hair_. It smelled like…lavender? I dunno; I'm a guy. I don't spend my time smelling flowers.

My mind was running a million miles an hour, so I just switched it off and said what my instincts told me to- be honest and simple.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

We were getting somewhere now. She looked like she was about to say something, but her dad interjected.

"Alright, we're here. I'll just drop you two off. We're late, sorry. Do you need an excuse?"

I assumed he was talking to his daughter, so I shut up and worked on undoing the child-safe lock on my door.

There was a brief conversation consisting of "yeah," "alright," a brief pause of pen scratching on paper, and a "thanks" as I finally unlatched the plastic thingy and opened the door. The girl got out too, and we walked towards the front doors together. Right before we went inside, I realized something.

"Hey, I didn't catch your name. I'm Eli."

She looked at me and grinned that lopsided grin I was quickly becoming addicted to.

"Julia. My name's Julia."

Julia.

**Next: the a****ssembly. And a pissed of nun. CAN SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME IF THE LEAD NUN AT A CATHOLIC SCHOOL IS CALLED 'MOTHER BLAH' OR 'SISTER BLAH'?**

**I'm introducing a lot of Eli's guy-friends next chapter, and probably in the one after that, too. But I don't know what to name them. Any ideas? **

**REVIEW. ALERT. FAVORITE. I have cookies. Cookies you shall eat if you review nicely, cookies I shall toss on you in a moment of horrific regurgitation if you don't. **

**I really like reviews. They make me happy. Feedback=Joy.**


	5. Maxine Physco Assailant Extraordinaire

**A/N …I just realized it took me 3 chapters, a prologue, and eighteen days to get Eli to school.**

**I haven't gotten to the assembly or his friends yet…NOT THE FACE! NO! BACK I SAY! BACK!**

**I REALLY should be beta-ing a BUNCH of stuff for DerSchwarzePrinz, but typed this up for you guys. I'M SORRY PRINZ! though, she wouldn't be reading this-probably...but I still said it!**

**...random note: I didn't get invited to this BLOWOUT party thisweekend, but my two best friends did...invitation only.**

**Warnings: language**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Degrassi, god, the Stone Age, the Bronze Age, clichés, nun-chucks, Nutter-Butters, Nunyabiz, Hay-Will, Nucor, the Nunavut government, or...a taco. I want one real bad though.**

We got in about half an hour late. The girl's head, Sister Hannah, had given us a long-winded lecture about tardiness when we signed in at the front office, but she was more motherly than mad. Hannah was a nice old woman, from what I knew of her. That is, until Julia got…defensive.

"God, I come in late all the time; no need to go all crazy about it." She did that little huff/cough things teenage girls are so good at.

"Julia? Using the Lord's name in vain?" Sister H. chastised, still gentle as ever. But Julia wasn't gonna let it end there.

"Oh, please, like you haven't done worse?" Oh, dear. I could see this getting ugly. "I bet you're not even a virgin or holy or anything. Way back in the Stone Age when you were twenty-five, God knows what you'd have done to get by. I can picture it now-" she switched to an announcer's voice- "And now, on the center stage-"

"Miss Morrissey!" So Julia's last name was Morrissey. Hey, you learn new things every day.

Back to the matter at hand; Sister H. was slowly coming out of shock. And she was _pissed_. That is, if nuns are even allowed to be pissed.

"_What?"_ Julia got snippy. Fiery redhead; how cliché.

"Hold your tongue! You've had behavioral problems in the past, not to mention the-" Hannah paused for a nervous glance at me, forgetting I was there for a second- "_incident_ last week. You're on thin ice as it is!"

"Incident?" Julia challenged, "Is that what we're calling it now?"

"Miss Morrissey, your stepfather asked that we keep this 'under wraps'." Sister Hannah gestured at me.

"Oh, fuck him." Julia dismissed.

The nun-chuck was not pleased, and neither was I. _Fuck me_? How dare that little- wait, going off into my imagination again. Back to nunner-butter. All evidence of her maternal feeling disappeared. More like "CastroStalinHitler" now.

"Julia Maxine!"

Pause.

"Maxine?" I said stupidly. And I started laughing.

Seriously, I couldn't tell you what happened in the next minute or two. It's all a blank.

I_ can_ tell you that when I finally came back to my senses (still letting out spastic little snorts), I was laying/kneeling on the ugly-ass carpet of the admissions office. And above me were a seriously concerned Nunyabiz and a livid Hay-Will.

"Young man?" Sister Hannah prodded gently.

"…Uh," was all that clawed its way out of my throat before Julia pounced on me.

You think I'm talking figuratively? Man, I wish.

She knocked me over backwards, smacking my head onto the floor. Her hands gripped my wrists and nailed them to the floor on either side of my head. Her face was rivaling the color of her hair. Her hair. Her red, straightened, a-bit-below-the-shoulder hair…I bet it would be really soft…

I was cruelly brought back to reality by the owner of this godly hair, who had a few choice words for me.

"You think that's _funny_! Is that so fucking_ hilarious_ to you! HUH?" She spat in my face. Not the intentional, wad-up-your-spit-and-hock-it-in-someone's-eye kind of spit. Like, flecks of it nailed me. It was two parts gross, one part hot. I mean, there was a girl straddling me in a schoolgirl's skirt, her face was really close to mine, and I could feel the heat radiating from her skin. I'm just one sick, perverted bastard, eh?

"Uh…" was again all I could say before I was interrupted.

"Julia!" Sister H. shouted "Unhand that boy at once!"

Julia unhanded me alright, and in the process of getting off me, she 'accidentally' kneed me. In a place no man should ever be kneed. Oh holy motherfu-I mean, of Jesus- that hurt. Being the manly man I was, I only let out one short squeak-Julia smirked. God, I was beginning to hate her. But her hair just became more and more important. I think I was in love. Julia could go die in a fucking hole though.

Once I got up (It took me a minute, for obvious reasons) I stood against the wall opposite Julia. Sister Hannah looked a bit strained. Poor old woman, we've really worked her up.

"We'll talk about this after school, Julia." She said a bit stiffly. "For now, the two of you can get to class."

Taking pity on the poor woman, I suppose, the violent little bitch walked out without an argument.

I followed her, limping really bad. I turned the corner right off of the office's doorway and my-uh, "nether regions" protested. I made a muffled "_eeyowch!"_ to save myself from further embarrassment. But I could have sworn I saw Sister Hannah smirk out of the corner of my eye. Why do all women hate me?

**REVIEWS OR NO CHAPTER 6!**

**Whoops… Sorry, I'm acting like an addict getting their fix out of a thug/dealer…which I guess is a pretty accurate similarization. So, I won't hold out, but I still want reviews, OK?**

**Sorry this is short, I've been sick. I won't be updating as fast from now on. i'm trying to start back up an old story that's been on hiatus.**

***creepy evil laugh* I'm adding serious not-so-**_**sub**_**plots soon…MWAHAHAHA! **

**Review, please.**


	6. Snitches and Stiches of the Past

**A/N I'm late. Don't hate. reviews could have saved you from this fate. well...okay, reviews don't really change tohe amount of schoolwork my crazy english teacher gives us. **

**Don't you just hate it when teachers pry into your personal life?**

**Notes actually relating to this chapter: Eli moved to Vancouver when he was 12, and in the second semester of 7****th**** grade. Saint Samuel's Academy is 6-12. T****his chapter has a massive sort-of-flashback thingy; stil filling in the background.**

**WARNING: no mary sues, but a little mary-jane...**

**Disclaimer: don't own, but that won't stop you from suing my over-worked, destined-to-fail ass.**

I checked the hall clock. 8:15. That left me close to the end of first period. Ugh- science. It's too early in the morning for that. I'll just hide out in the boys' bathroom 'til the bell.

I opened the door to the first bathroom I walked by. That faintly sweet hazy smell… maybe I should turn back around…

Too late.

"Who's there?" a familiar voice called from behind the door to the handicapped stall. I stayed silent.

"Man, who's fucking _there_?" Porter repeated, getting worried. Ironic, worried when you're half-baked... crap, the door to the stall was opening. A head peeked out nervously- Porter's little brother, Paul. He looked relieved when he recognized me.

"Man, don't freak. It's Eli!" Paul informed his brother.

The Fisher brothers had been my friends since I'd moved to Vancouver from San Francisco about a year and a half ago. Paul was my age- 14, frosh. Oddly, I was friends with Porter first. He was a sophomore now, but 2 years older. The dumbass failed kindergarten. Anyway, back when I was like about 13, I met Porter. The Fishers were new kids too, but Porter soon became a typical schoolyard bully-in-training. He hung around with the older kids and shook down the skinny short kids for their lunch money, shit like that. I used to those guys' prime target, with the my-mommy-picks-out-my-outfit clothes, girly face, and…less than average height. I hadn't hit my growth spurt yet, okay! But Porter kinda took me under his wing, and I was suddenly off-limits to his friends.

"It's my mission to de-dork-ify you, Lila" He informed me, adding my unfortunate nickname on the end to remind me of my social status: Li-Li, Lila, or flat out Dog Meat. Before Porter nudged me onto the path of juvenile delinquency, I was the subject of taunts from Donnie and his thugs. Actually beating me up, however, was a right reserved for Donnie himself. As a treat, sometimes he'd let his friends hold me down for him or throw in the odd punch or kick. I was sick of it, and I guess my subconscious took over and I tried to do something about it.

One day, Porter and his friends were scaring the shit out of one of the younger kids, sixth-grader maybe. My self-preservation skills, along with my sanity, went off to Pluto and I marched up to them with the full intent of telling them to fuck off. Before I could open my mouth, however, one of his "crew" noticed me and tapped a few of the other guys, notifying them of a potential punching bag. Pretty soon the entire group was facing me. I saw the poor eleven year old scamper off to safety. Lucky. I was frozen. Porter spoke from the middle of his entourage, posing like god on judgment day.

"Hey."

"Hey." I replied as a reflex. Was I actually talking to Porter fucking Fisher like a normal person?"

"What's your name, kid?" he asked, his Brooklyn accent coming on full-force.

"that's Lila" one of his cronies answered immediately. Porter turned to him slowly.

"Did I ask you? _Really?_ Cuz I'm pretty sure I asked the kid." If I wasn't so shocked and scared shitless, I would have objected to being called 'kid'. Porter turned back to me and raising an eyebrow in expectance.

"Eli." I deadpanned. Being on the verge of a heart attack usually stopped me from being Chatty Cathy.

He did a sort of upward nod with his chin. And, just like that, my problems were over. It was like someone had stamped "Approved" on my forehead; no one dared mess with me.

Sans, of course, one final incident with Donnie.

He and a couple friends jumped me while I was walking to the bus stop. I ditched that day, but my mom was still home-she worked the graveyard shift back then. So I just walked around. I must've looked like a scary SOB, what with the blood running down my chin (first shot-caught me off guard), cut on my eyebrow (one of them had a ring), and the way I held one arm across my ribs (I was too proud to curl up in a ball when they got me on the ground). People parted like the Red Sea for me. Moms with strollers gave me wary looks. Businessmen glared at me like I was the shit on their shoe. Some old farts talking in not-so-hushed voices about dangerous youth and raising crime rates.

It was like a badass high.

Of course, when I did eventually go home after school hours were over, my parent flipped their shit.

"What happened to you!" Not a question, an accusation.

"Who did this to you?" Whose mommy am I going to call?

"What did you do?" What did you do to deserve this?

I got rushed to the hospital like my water just broke. Then, we waited a good two hours waiting for a doctor. It was just a couple missing teeth and 3 stitches above my eye. The doc said not to put strain on my ribs, but they were just bruised. Of course, Mom and Dad wanted to call the police to file a report, but I threw a bit of a tantrum. I wouldn't've snitched on Donnie to the cops anyway- I didn't have a death wish.

But I did snitch on him to Porter.

Donnie walked into school a week and a half later with twenty-eight stitches and a broken arm.

And, by some phenomenon of human psychology, everyone at school thought it was _**me**_ who did it. I walked into school the day Donnie got back, and it was like walking down the street after I got beat up. Badass high- part dos. It blew over in a month or two, but I still had some residual fear-instilling power left in me.

So you're seeing why being Porter's protégé is both a good and bad thing, right? Everything he did, I did. He partied, I partied. He got girls, I got girls. He drank, smoked cigs, smoked hash, did ecstasy (ONCE) got into fights, vandalized old buildings… you see where I'm going with this.

Nevertheless, I still hung out with him. Unfortunately, when you're in the 9 to 12 building, Porter couldn't protect me as well. Some of the upperclassmen and 10th graders left me alone because they were Porter's friends (or victims), but to other frosh, I was fair game. Well, I wasn't a main target, but-like I said- the whole that's-the-kid-who-almost-killed-Donnie thing was pretty much forgotten. So, when I had a chance to get some of that old reputation back by being seen with the Fisher brothers (Paul was pretty intimidating too-must be in that New York water), I took it.

And here I was, in the pot-smoke-filled bathroom with the two people who could up my 'street cred' or whatever, and no one was here to see it!

"Want a hit?" asked Porter, offering me the joint.

Well, I should make the best of my situation, right?

**next chapter: Porter, Paul, and Eli have their very own Circle in the latrine. And class too, but who cares about that...**

**What do you think? Questions, opinions, and general feedback can all be left in a review *wink that borders on spasticity of the eye***


	7. Anythingy and Everythingy

**A/N I AM SO SORRY. This is really late. Three words: CAS semester projects. And I'm still not done. I got two reviews last chapter, and I don't know if it was because I took forever to update or because it sucked THAT bad. OFFICIALLY SEEKING A BETA FOR THIS STORY. Just drop a PM or review if you're interested. **

**DISCLAMER: I'm serious; can someone find me a good disclaimer to use? Please? Just PM me or leave it in a review. For now: I DON'T OWN DEGRASSI.**

**This chapter starts about thirty seconds after where we left off last chapter…just thought I'd let you know. Also, remember: they're passing the joint around for the whole bathroom scene.**

**JULI: Part One, Chapter Seven: Anythingy and Everythingy**

We all found places in the handicapped stall, locking the door behind us. Porter demonstrated his alpha-dog status by taking the only chair-like fixture: the back of the toilet, his feet on the lid. Paul was more of an enforcer-in-training kind of guy, so he leaned against the wall with one foot pressed up against it and one on the marble floor, arms crossed. Casual but intimidating. I was about to settle down somewhere when Porter asked, slightly alarmed "Dude, what's up with your face?"

I had almost forgotten my face's meeting of the concrete this morning. I didn't get a chance to really check out my face this morning when I ran back. With a quizzical look at my friends, I checked out the damage in the mirror above the sink.

My chin was scraped up a bit. The right side of my jaw was still red, and my cheek had a thin, long-ish cut. Upon further inspection, I realized it wasdeeper than normal. Nowhere near enough to need stitches, but would easily get infected. I must've cut it on the- thing… threw up a little in my mouth again. I really need some tooth paste.

"Eli? We need to rough anyone up?" Porter nudged.

It didn't look like I had gotten jumped or anything, but Porter was always worried about me. I assured him I just fell on my way to the bus stop. He seemed to believe me, and we moved on to lighter topics, supplemented by the joint. Things got a little hazy, but we weren't stupid enough to get stoned in school. How the hell would we get out? At least we didn't have to worry about anyone walking in on us; no one came in here. It was an established get-high-or-take-a-smoke-break bathroom, and only one group could occupy it at a time. If a fellow JD (okay, Paul's the only one of us who's ever been to juvie, but still) did come in, he would get out and keep quiet. I estimated we were set to chill until after lunch.

I wisely kept quiet about meeting Julia for an hour or two, but my resolve crumbled eventually.

"Either of you ever hear 'bout a girl…Julia something?"

Paul snorted. "I've met plenty of Julia's. Anything special about this one? "

"I dunno, she goes here."

"She goes here? Wait, redhead?" Porter questioned curiously.

"yeah, her hair's like…super red." I felt like going off on a monologue about it, but I was a bit off.

Paul raised an eyebrow and turned to his brother. "The Julia who did the thingy…last week?"

I vaguely recalled Sister Hannah mentioning an "incident" with Julia in the office. I was intruiged now. Unfortunately, Paul uses "thingy" for anything and everything.

"_Pass me that thingy."_

"_Did you hear about the thingy?"_

"_The one who thingied that thingy with the thingymajigger?" _

So it could've been anything from a church fundraiser to dealing smack. Which meant I had to ask.

"What thingy?"

Porter and Paul shared another look.

"A thingy" they said in unison, not looking at me. They were protecting me, _again_. Those two thought just because I was the smallest and least street-smart (and I was pretty damn street-wise compared to a lot of the other kids here), I had to be sheltered from everything!

"You guys can tell me, y'know…" I said, a bit hurt, passing the joint off to Porter.

"It's just- it's kinda sensitive…" he tried to shrug it off.

"I can take it" I insisted.

"Well, I dunno… how do you know her?" He would tell me if I told him how I really met her, but if I lied and said I heard her mentioned somewhere, he would never give in.

"We sort of…met today."Two pairs of eyes immediately snapped to me, telling me to continue.

"Well, like I said, I tripped on my way to the bus, so then I had to run back and wash off my face. And put on some serious Neosporin 'cuz that thing was _nasty_-"

"Eli," Paul silenced me. "shut up and keep talking."

I complied. Paul scared me sometimes, despite everything the three of us have been through together. I explained how I got a ride from her dad, met her, and then the whole fiasco in the office.

"…and then, uh…she kinda kneed me in the balls and, like, walked out" I finished lamely.

At this, the boys cracked up. Giggling like they were…oh yeah. Duh. Porter had this hilariously uncharacteristic laugh that was, like, a gigglesnort. Once he let it out we all doubled over, then sort of gracelessly sank in a spastic heap on the bathroom floor. After a bit, we recovered, and Paul put the joint away, saying, "We still gotta go to class in like half an hour."

The mention of class usually put a damper on all of our moods, but nothing's funner than being buzzed in health. Mr. Trenner was my friend Seth's dad. He was a youth pastor, and loved talking to us about our "personal issues, decisions, and character". He would never rat you out to your parents if you brought up something "bad" you did without your permission. This was awesome, because you could pull crazy stories outta nowhere about all these fucked up, illegal shit you did and he had to have a class discussion with you about it. Trenner got uncomfortable really easy.

As I heard the bell ring for 5th period, I began to make plans for torturing Mr. Trenner. He was a nice enough guy, but once he said he didn't want me and Paul hanging around Seth. Time for petty revenge! Hmm…he'd probably snitch if I told him I was high right then…

I'll just have to have fun with it.

**The end lacks epicness, I know. I also know I'm moving pretty slowly with the plot, this is a bit short, and it's more of a humor story now. But once Eli and Julia stop despising eachother, things WILL pick up. For now, I have to go downstairs and greet my mom's family, then hide on the freezing back porch while they talk about "putting the Christ back in Christmas". Awkwardly Not Christian, party of 1. **

**Belated thanks to **_Four-Leaf-Clovers_** for helping me out with a few facts used in chapter 4!**

**And **_Shatteredsand_** gets a pie for supplying names. A digital pie, but a pie nonetheless.**

**And **_DegrassixEllie_** for taking the time to tell me what you liked. I would've ended up scrapping the last chapter because I thought it was too off.**

**And **_Miakoda _**(anon.) for being…just pretty cool with your reviews and wonderfully ADD support. But I can't tell you what he fell in. It might end up being a running gag or something. I'm evil like that; getting coal in my stocking and all.**

**I've decided I want to do a oneshot dedicated to one of my reviewers. I dunno who or when or what about; that's mostly up to you guys. **

**Review; I really need the feedback. I'm worried this fic is sucky or…I dunno, buit I will if you tell me in a REVIIIIIIEEEWWWWWW! happy christmas**


	8. JULI apology

Lets just say my computer is evil. My internet was crazy, I lost ALL of my Microsoft office stuff, the person I beta for lost me- I'm AM SO SORRY, my private messaging is messed up, and I have to get ready for a bajillion finals and exit projects. I broke my foot and tore a muscle, was failing all my classes for a while because I missed so much school, family problems, and there are countless relationship problems. mraa. plus FF WOULD NOT SEND MY PASSWORD TO MY EMAIL WHEN I FORGOT IT! I remembered today.

Unfortunately, I lost the next chapter, which I am now re-writing completely. I wrote a lot during my absence…but then…Well…I now know that you should never be writing on the big notepad with all your stories on it when some mean girls at school are mad at you. they'll take it and it'll never be seen again.

I AM WORKING REALLY HARD ON THIS AGHHH

I can start publishing hopefully by early June, when finals end. Until then, I am a studying robot living on caffeine. i will not be able to beta...too many things happening. by the way, i lost all files, including the ones of anyone who i beta for.

Until next time,

VC


	9. Cliche Intervention AfterSchool Special

**A/N I'm back. I go on vacation in a week. No internet, no computer, no phone, no nothing. Les hope this satisfies you. Summer…finally.**

**Juli, Part One, Chapter 8: Cliche Intervention After-School Special **

I strolled into Mister Trenner's room right before the bell rang and took my seat. Paul sat next to me; something TrenTren probably wouldn't like. We were known for working best together.

As soon as everyone settled down, Trenner started writing on the blackboard. Hmm, what was today's subject? How could I use it to my advantage?

_**Experimenting with Drugs**_

If there is a god out there, I think he wants me to have a little fun.

"Good afternoon, class!" He boomed. Ugh, tone it down dude.

We mumbled a "good afternoon, Mr. Trenner."

"okay, so, today's topic is…drum roll please?" a kid tapped out a drum roll on his desk. "Experimenting with drugs! Can someone define 'drugs' for the class?"

A few hands went up, including Paul's.

"Mr. Fisher?" Oh god, Mr. Trenner, you know better than to fall into this trap.

"Drugs are like…they're like substances that mess with your brain and body. And they seem fun at first, but then you come down, and you feel really terrible. And you can get addicted and then your life is screwed."

"Right. Drugs are, in the context we're focusing on, addictive substances that give you a 'high' but have negative effects on the body and mind. Can you give me some examples, Paul?" Wow, this guy was enthusiastic. I feel like I'm in an after-school special.

"Um, yeah, sure. There's like heroin and crack and cocaine and acid and pot. But then there's like this whole other world of medication-drugs that people steal or abuse or something. Like Ritalin or oxycodone or really any heavy-duty painkiller."

"Correct..." Trenner was getting a bit suspicious. He knew me and Paul were partners in crime, so he turned to me for his next question.

"Eli, will you explain to the class what a 'high' is?"

Ok, two options. Option one: give a short, textbook definition that would hopefully get him off my ass.

Option two: describe being high in such detail that he would _know _I did drugs. He couldn't punish me without solid evidence, but he could still call home with "concern". My parents would kill me. It's risky, it's stupid, it's unnecessary…

"Well, a high is like…awesome. Depends what you're on, and how much you've done, really, but it's basically like you aren't really super-sensitive to what's going on around you. You feel really good, but your brain isn't working as fast as usual. And you think about stuff, but nothing really makes sense, but you feel like it does because you're just really chill." Not very articulate, but that was part of the effect.

"Eli…" shit shit shit he was gonna say something. "talk to me after class."

The kids in my class were too mature (surprisingly) to do the "ooooooooh!" thing, but there were a lot of meaningful glances flying around the room. Paul gave me a pitying look.

Trenner kinda changed the subject after that; talking about different kinds of drugs and doing all the talking while we took notes. When the bell rang, he told us this subject would be the main focus of the semester. Great.

While everyone else filed out, I slowly packed up my bag and made the agonizing walk to Mr. Trenner's desk. He told me pull up a chair.

"Don't you have a class coming in?" I asked hopefully.

"This is my prep period. We have plenty of time." He said. He sounded serious.

"Okay…so…what did you wanna talk about?" I asked nervously as I sat down. When it came to this kind of stuff, I lost the smartass touch I was infamous for.

"Eli, I need you to answer me honestly. Swear you will answer me honestly, please." His eyes were begging me.

I was on the defensive now. "Depends what you're going to ask" I said warily.

He looked at me for a long time. Finally, when I thought he was turning to stone, he leaned back in his chair, folded his hands over his stomach, and tersely "Fair enough."

I started to think I was in the clear when he opened his mouth again.

"Then answer anyways, and I'll hope you're being truthful. Have you ever taken drugs, Eli?"

I started to form a response, but I couldn't lie. He had such a sincere, trustworthy face. How do I get around this? I've known this guy for years! It's Seth's dad for Christ's sake! Must stall for now.

"Why do you ask?"

His eyes snapped to mine and locked me in a cold stare.

"I'm not stupid. You and the Fisher brothers, always skipping class, walking around school like that? Rumors among students of how you three always get high together? You think because no staff member had caught you red-handed, you can't be punished? We can find ways to prove it, Eli. It'll be easier on all of us if you can just admit it to me now, and I can get you to stop, and we don't have to bring your parents or the heads into this at all. Come on, Eli. Just be honest with me."

I played out the possible outcomes. I could tell him I _occasionally_ did drugs, slowly convince him over the next few months that I was stopping, and that's the end of that. Or, I could tell him, and he'd call in my parents and the school and hell, maybe even a shrink. There was always the option of denying it, but he wouldn't stop fighting until he busted all three of us. There was zero possibility he was bluffing. Trenner just doesn't roll like that.

He could tell I was thinking hard. "Eli. You need help, and I can give it to you. You can trust me, I swear on the Bible"

Okay, he doesn't joke like that. I can do this.

"um, yeah." I shifted in my chair.

"you do drugs?" he inquired, clearly getting into this

"um, yeah" I repeated stupidly.

Say it. In a sentence. The first step is to admit you have a problem." He leaned forward.

This was getting way too cliché intervention for me.

"Uh, Mister Trenner? This is kinda a lot to talk about in one day. Can we pick this up later? I need to think about some stuff."

He didn't seem disappointed. We agreed to talk again before school tomorrow, and he sent me off to class.

Yeah, right. Like I was going to class. I texted Paul.

_Dude. meet me in the bathroom asap_

_finally realized how bad u want me Lila? Always thought u played for the othr team_

_Stfu. Trenner kinda busted me_

_SHIT. Ill b there in a sec_

_k. btw I need to relax soooo (_yeah, I know. Twice In one day. I don't need a lecture. Fuck off.)

_got u covered man. Harder shit?_

_I need something crazy_

_u mean like…?_

_Yeah_

_Jeezus. at skool? idk._

_Plz?_

_i only keep tht in my locker. 2 far. ull hav 2 settle for the norm_

_Damn. K. thx._

Guess how I spent the rest of my school day?

**A/N Reviews? You get telepathic cookies made of love!**

**Getting into the romance might take a while. My love life recently…well it completely sucks, and I have a hard time writing about love :/ Frownie Brownie**

**Maybe a vacation-beach-fling will put me into better spirits! Haha, I hope you all review! Perdy please? **

**see y'all soon!**


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